The Legend of the Leg Humper

I have been saving this story since the beautiful birth of Haute Mess Life ® (trademarked biatch). Meeting nice guys who legitimately want to date you is hard. Finding these guys in Los Angeles is borderline impossible. Between all the dating sites, tinder, instagram, facebook and beyond we are seriously fucked. That’s why in the rare instant that you DO meet a wonderful guy in LA (that doesn’t have head shots, a gold chain necklace or Herpes) the universe is sending you a gift. I have always wondered what one considers a deal breaker or do-able for the sake of a great guy.

It all started out so well. You know when you start dating someone and everything seems SO perfect. You both love food, he makes you laugh, loves your friends the whole mishpucha. He had a great job, a great personality and was already assessing my ring size. Having just ended a seriously vakakta “relationship” with someone I have spent serious unlicensed hours of therapy to block out of my memory, I was so happy to meet such a wonderful guy. On our first date he took me to this fabulous new restaurant opening, he picked me up at my apartment and brought me a bottle of vodka. He said he meant to stop for flowers on the way but got caught up late at the office and figured this may be more sentimental anyways. You may think that’s strange, I think it’s romantic. Nicholas Sparks take notes honey! (Haute Mess Lesson: Flowers die, Vodka is forever) We had the best time. I met some of his coworkers and friends after dinner and I was already designing our monogrammed hand towels in my head. It literally couldn’t have gone any better. He dropped me off and we set plans for another date just a few days later. I was so excited to see where things were going.

After our first 5 or 6 dates I really saw things headed towards a relationship. We had been spending a lot of time together but were still taking things really slow. I think we both felt there was serious potential between us and didn’t want to risk anything by moving too fast. I was keen about not going to his place or inviting him to mine right away and he seemed to have no problem with it. In hindsight this may have been a red flag but hey, ignorance is bliss right? On our 6th date we went to The Chateau Marmont for dinner and drinks. I thought this may be a strategic move since his house was less than a mile away. As I finished shoveling food down my throat he said he wanted to take things to the next level. He said he had no interest in spending time with anybody else and paid me some of the most genuinely sweet compliments I had ever heard. He totally got my crazy and loved it, hell he even wanted me to attend Shabbat dinner at his sister’s house – at that point my ovaries almost exploded. I told him I would love to be exclusive and was excited for the “next step”. He asked me if I would like to go back and see his place for a nightcap. Ever the lady, I said I would love to and polished off the rest of my (and his) meal. As we left the restaurant and headed to Valet I couldn’t help but be in awe of my luck. This guy thinks my man-ish appetite is “charming”, has a great sense of humor, relatively good looking AND he owns property! How could this be? I remember feeling like I must not be nearly as bad of a person as I thought because the universe was rewarding me with such a catch.

While we anxiously waited for the car we began kissing -very unaware of our surroundings. We were being one of those super gross and annoying couples laying on the PDA big time. I’m not a real PDA person but I figured what the fuck. As the PDA packed on, he grabbed my hand and took me to a dark corner for a bit more privacy. Kinda creepy, kinda hot. I’ll go with it. As we continued to kiss he broke away and gave me this sweet and innocent smile. He slowly bent down as if he had seen a stain on my shirt and brace himself by grabbing my lower thigh with both hands. Okay… Is he proposing? Is he having a stroke? Have his knees given out? Shitting his pants? Why is he squatting down? I had no clue what was going on. I couldn’t see his face given that he was squatting down bracing my right thigh in his hands so I just began playing with his hair. Then it happened. He began to hump my leg… like a fucking dog. I was sure he was just kidding, I let out a nervous laugh. He peered up at me like a guilty child and said “Is this okay?” Holy balls. This was not a joke. Fuck fuck fuck! I had no clue what to do. I quickly evaluated my situation… he had just bought me a seriously delish Filet Mignon and barely cringed when I asked for a side of bernaise sauce to smother it in so I felt like I needed to reciprocate. My response? “Um yeah, of course.” Cool as a fucking cucumber.

He began grinding his sickly privates into my knee cap and GRUNTING. You may wonder what one does while having their leg humped. For the first minute or 2 I simply stood there trying to make my leg seem consensual. He was completely unaware of anything going on from mid-thigh and up he was aggressively staring at my leg like he was Christian Grey and my limb was Anastasia Steele. Creepiest shit of all time. After 3 minutes I realized this was why he had been so “respectful” and after finally dropping the “exclusive” title he wanted to let his freak flag fly. If he could hump my leg day one into our relationship what would happen after a month? Elbow fellatio? My heart broke with every thrust to my poor little leg.

Despite all his pro’s my little Humpty Dumpty was a goner. While he was nearing a wet dream, I was living a real life nightmare. As he went to town on my lower appendage I got my phone out of my purse and texted my friend for an emergency pick up. “What happened?!?!?!” she asked. “Leg rape.” “Oy vey, be there in 15.” #friendship. After I secured an exit strategy, I then looked up some local Planned Parenthood centers so I could make sure my thigh wasn’t pregnant. Once he finished molesting my leg he came up for a kiss when I immediately stopped him and told him I didn’t see things working out for us. Subtlety has never been a strong suit of mine. I waivered on this decision many times, pondering if Humpty Dumpty deserved a second chance but then concluded:If your leg gets a humping, it’s time for a dumping.

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